Bone Heart.
The name all sirens knew and feared, even if they didn’t want to admit it. He had once more lived up to his name.
Around me, cool water was tinted the palest shade of red. My gills expanded between my ribs and I could scent my own blood through still, freshwater. I was in a pool, the hushed sound of a waterfall some distance away the only thing that reached my ears besides my own pulse. For a while, I was content to float there, alone and in silence, my tail a length of relaxed muscle coiled over smooth stones.
My heartbeat was slow and lazy. When I tried to move my body, I could feel a peculiar tightness pulling at the side of my back. A kind of tightness I knew very well from when wounds healed into scars. I rolled over onto my stomach and pushed up on my hands, arching toward the faint, fiery light of a sunset. In the back of my mind, I feared emerging from that pool and being faced with a world absent the one I loved most. The fear that he died after I lost consciousness was a possibility I didn’t want to face.
I pushed to the surface of the water and was practically blinded by the amount of green surrounding me. Trees, ferns, grass. Moss blanketed every surface. Vines hung like fishing lines into the water and on them were small, budding flowers. And the air smelled divine, filled with life and the rich scent of soil.
“Dahlia?”
I turned and all of my worries were silenced for a moment when I saw Meridan sitting on the edge of the pool. She climbed to her feet, letting the thin fabric of a white dress fall to her ankles. I drifted toward her, my tail shifting as I moved. By the time I reached the bank, I was able to stand on two legs and stretch my sore and bruised muscles. Meridan wasted no time. She wrapped her arms around me, pressing her pristine white dress to my wet body.
“Thank Lune,” she whispered. “I’ve never seen so much blood come out of someone who was still breathing. Not even you.”
“And yet I breathe,” I said flatly.
Meridan drew back and looked up at me. “Yes. Are you not overjoyed by that?”
I brushed my wet hair back from my face and sighed, unsure what to say. Bending, Meridan picked up a faded red wrap dress and handed it to me. I slid my arms into the fabric and tied the garment at my waist, letting routine guide my hands.
“Come,” she said, taking my hand. “The others will be so relieved to see you.”
I dragged my feet behind her, a thousand things shooting through my head at once. I wanted to ask the question. The one that had been burning my thoughts for however long I’d been soaking in the pool.
Was Vidar really alive? Or had I dreamt it all?
I felt senseless.
As we cleared the trees, a massive, sandy beach opened up before us, its backdrop a vivid dusk over a calm surf. The men had set up camp. Piles of fruit were gathered on giant leaves, no doubt collected from the island itself. Fish hung on drying racks and some was cooking over a fire, tended by Boil and Aleksi. All eyes turned to me as I emerged from the foliage. Men began to stand and smile in greeting and I knew not how to respond. I felt as if I’d missed something.
“Pay them no mind,” Meridan said, dragging me past them before anyone could speak.
We trekked further down the beach, heading for a large tent that was set up near a runoff of fresh water from further inland. Behind it, the Storm Weaver was careened on the sand, thick ropes anchoring her to the largest trees. Repairs were well underway.
There were a few people sitting under the canopy of the tent and a few standing, their backs turned to us as we approached. I could recognize Mullins immediately and Nazario’s familiar dark hair was the next to catch my eye. They noticed us and stepped aside, unblocking a pair that was sitting in the tent itself.
I saw crimson hair the same shade as the sunset. Aeris was kneeling in front of a wooden chair in which a man sat slouched, his elbows perched on his knees. Vidar’s golden ropes of hair were pulled back neatly. His shirt was hanging over the back of the chair and Aeris’ nimble hands were tucking the ends of fresh bandages into a knot against his chest. Bandages that spanned his ribs and stomach.
But it didn’t matter. I didn’t care anymore about the gnarly wound that was hidden under those wrappings. All that matteredwas that Vidar was alive and breathing, in the flesh and not in my dreams.
And nothing else mattered outside of that. I staggered forward, my mind teetering on the edge of insanity. Every step I took I thought, maybe, he could disappear.
The moment his head turned and his eyes locked with mine, I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I was not being teased by my puzzled imagination. He was my Vidar and not an illusion or a hope or a trick. Tears filled my eyes. My breath stopped and my heart fluttered to life, beating for him. He stood, tall and strong despite his wound, and marched toward me like nothing else existed. Ten steps. That was all there was between us. Ten torturous steps to cover and my feet barely remembered how to move. But Vidar’s did. He closed the gap between us and when I thought my legs would collapse beneath me, he caught me with his arms, holding me aloft. I clung to his shoulders, pressing myself against him, and lost myself in his presence.
“I thought I’d lost you,” I sobbed, trembling in his strong arms.
His hands brushed up my back, his head dropping so he could rest his lips against my shoulder.
“I thought I’d lost you, too,” he whispered, squeezing me hard enough to break the bones of a less resilient body.
I drew back to see his face. “They killed you. I watched them kill you. It was so clear.”
“No. No, he kept me alive. He made me watch as he…” His jaw pulsed and the words evaporated from his tongue. “It doesn’t matter. In the end, you came out and he did not.”
I sighed a breath of relief the moment I realized I had not lost everything and all the pieces I thought I’d never get back had been restored. I lifted my chin, meeting his lips in a gentle, unrushed kiss just to taste him again.
“Vidar, I love you,” I whispered. “I love you. No victory was worth losing you.”
